


Hands Up And Surrender

by lindsey_grissom



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-25
Updated: 2008-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He refused to watch for a second time, the Tardis disappear in front of him...</i>  When Ianto comes across the Tardis first, how different can it all be?  There's something Jack's hiding from everyone, even himself and the year-that-will-never-be has just got a lot more complicated. (Jack/Master)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was typical. The one occasion where Owen had ever offered to pay for coffee and the doctor had left his wallet behind. Which meant that after thinking he was safe to leave his own money in the Tourist offices, Ianto found himself heading back across the Plass to get it.

A loud grinding noise caught his attention just as a harsh wind swept leaves past his face. Tugging his suit closer and wishing he had thought to bring a coat, Ianto turned to his right. To see a blue police box standing right in front of the Millennium Centre.

The sound and wind stopped and Ianto's memory reminded him that he had seen the box before and not where it currently stood. Canary Wharf and the fall of Torchwood One was still something he preferred not to think about. Yvonne Hartman's reign had ended in fire and blood and even almost two years later, Ianto would find himself reliving the experience in dreams even the comfort of Jack couldn't dispel.

So, seeing a rather iconic momentum from that particular nightmare standing before him, was not easy for him to simply ignore.

All Torchwood employees were fully briefed on the oldest of all charters. That the Doctor, if seen, was to be apprehended at all costs. Over the years the attempts had come at great costs.

However, Jack, when taking over, had announced that particular order out-dated and ridiculous and had then proceeded to ensue that anyone who persisted in the hunt for the Doctor, knew exactly where the ret-con was stored. Just before they forgot.

Ianto was one of the few from Torchwood One that had seen the Doctor's actions that day and survived to remember them.

Which explained why, when the door of the Police Box opened, and a slightly familiar head poked out, instead of grabbing his gun and calling for back-up, Ianto calmly walked towards it.

As he grew closer, the Doctor raised his eyes, a frown settling on his face, before he spoke some words, too quiet for Ianto to hear, and a second face appeared in the doorway. This wasn't the same woman who had been with the Doctor at Canary Wharf, which did not surprise Ianto; he had seen the CCTV footage one night with Jack, and he knew that the young blonde had been stolen away into the same place the Cybermen had.

Both occupants of the blue box watched him with interest when he finally came to a stop in front of them. Later, he might blame it on the stress of the last few days; first betraying and then mourning his Boss and sometimes lover. But giving no thought to said Boss, and ignoring the obvious connection of Jack's Doctor to this Doctor, Ianto held out his hand and spoke the alien's name in greeting.

"Doctor."

Two sets of eyes blinked at him in surprise, then the Doctor's gaze seemed to sear into him, as though he were seeing something more than just his eyes, before cautiously accepting the handshake.

The Doctor cleared his throat, obviously thrown for the moment, and when he spoke it was with more caution than Ianto expected.

"Yes, well, you seem to know who I am, and you can obviously see through the Tardis's perception filter, but I have no idea who you are."

"Ianto Jones, Sir, I saw you at Canary Wharf."

The Doctor flinched momentarily, a reaction Ianto knew well, before he seemed to physically pull himself together.

"So many Jones's, and Smiths. Always a lot of Smiths. Odd that, thousands of last names on the planet, and I always end up with the same few as Companions." The Doctor paused, as though realising he was rambling, and then pinned Ianto with a particularly cold glare. "Suppose that makes you Torchwood then. Since you haven't pulled a gun on me yet, and you appear to be on the wrong side of a two on one deal, I'll give you one chance to run back to your office and forget you ever saw me."

There was true promise behind the unspoken threat, something that screamed there would be no second chances.

"I am part of Torchwood, Sir, but you're no longer our enemy. When the Captain took over, he was quite clear on that point."

Ianto wondered at the sudden tightness in the Doctor's stance, surely finding out that an alien hunting organisation no longer considered you a threat should come as a relief?

"The Captain." The words were rough, barely above a whisper, and then the Doctor cleared his throat and seemed ready to bounce up and down. "Right, well then, we best be leaving. Don't want to be in one place too long, especially not Cardiff." He gave a dramatic shudder, which earned him an elbow to the stomach from the woman. "Martha what?" He finally understood her sharp look at Ianto and smiled with a rather false apology. "Right. Rude. No offence intended, of course. I'm sure Cardiff has loads of great things to offer, I know I've never actually been bored the last few times I was here."

The Doctor trailed off, looking lost in thought, and Ianto shifted his feet. The movement snapped the Doctor out of whatever he had fallen into, and he grinned widely. It wasn't as good as Jack's best, but it was a fair imitation.

"How about one trip Mr Jones? Anytime or place in the Universe. Just a sort of 'thank you' for not shooting me." The woman, Martha, looked sufficiently shocked for Ianto to figure the Doctor did not regularly offer these trips.

It was tempting, of course it was tempting, but he had to pay for the coffees, and then there was Jack.

He mentioned the first to the Doctor, not really knowing why he didn't mention the second.

The Doctor laughed. "Time Machine." He said, and Ianto decided that no one would begrudge him one trip, especially if they didn't even suffer any coffee deficiencies because of it.

The Doctor reached out, clapping him on the shoulder at his agreement, and then ushered him into the Tardis with the excitement of a school boy.

Part way through his introduction of his current Companion; Martha Jones, no relation, the Doctor froze mid-sentence, his eyes fixed on a point behind Ianto's shoulder. Having only just met the man, Ianto could not guess at the emotions that flew through the Doctor's eyes.

Curious as to what could silence, so suddenly, someone who it was obvious loved to talk, Ianto turned to face where the Doctor's gaze was fixed.

His heart seemed to jump into his throat at the sight of Jack, his coat flapping in the Bay wind. He stood not far from the lift, but still at a great enough distance that Ianto could only just make out the emotions passing the American's face.

Hope seemed to war with relief which was battling hard to keep its position from joy. Ianto reached out a hand automatically, as though to beckon the Captain, and a hand landed firmly on his shoulder.

"We need to leave now." The Doctor's voice was low and sharp, like he was fighting to keep any and all emotion from it, and Ianto knew that he was being asked if he had changed his mind.

Despite the smile on the Doctor's face, and the unbelievable size of the interior of the Tardis; Ianto could not help but think that the decision to turn away from Jack and follow the Doctor was worse than the one to keep Lisa in the Hub's basement.

Then the Doctor shouted in surprise, and began to run around what looked to be the control centre, muttering about Vortex Energy and sudden Rift Shocks. Ianto, Martha and the Doctor were thrown to the floor as they materialized in the year 100 trillion right into the centre of a hunt and all thoughts of Jack left his mind as he ran for his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack squeezed his eyes shut against the agonizingly familiar grinding, refusing to watch a second time as the Tardis disappeared in front of him.

It would take a moment for the full scope of what had just occurred to hit him, and he knew that actually seeing this abandonment again would push him over into grief faster than he could handle. Instead, the picture played out behind his eyelids, but at least it wasn't new. The old pain he could just about handle.

When he felt the wind drop, and the grinding silence, he turned on the spot, and only when he faced the opposite direction; the Water Tower filling his view, did he open his eyes. Just in time to see Gwen step off of the lift and rush towards him.

"Jack? What're you doing? One minute you're asking about coffee, and the next minute you've disappeared." She reached out and clasped his hand, as though frightened he would disappear again. He still felt too numb to offer much, but his hand tightened once around hers instinctively.

"I thought I saw something on the monitors." After the Doctor's hand had set off its own alarms, it had taken him a few minutes to actually believe what he was seeing. He wondered what the extra time had cost him.

Gwen looked around anxiously. "What was it?" They were certain Abbadon was gone, and the rift was closed again, but still. Bilis hadn't been found and she worried what he was planning now.

Jack contemplated how to answer, the numb feeling giving him a sort of detached reflectivity as he considered what had happened.

When he did answer the detachment carried over into his voice and Gwen shivered from more than just the cool air.

"It was nothing Gwen; history repeating."

Before she could ask, or Jack could say more, Owen and Tosh arrived beside them, coffees in their hands and not a little annoyance in their expressions.

"What're you doin' out here?" Owen puffed out the question, but didn't wait for an answer. "Either of you see Teaboy? He was supposed to be gettin' some money, bloody twat never came back did he? I put these on his tab." He indicated the take-out cups with a shake.

Tosh looked a little concerned, flicking her eyes between Jack, Gwen and the Tourist Office entrance. She put her spare hand on Owen's arm, whether as a sign of unification or an effort to pass across her worry, Jack didn't know, but her question, when it came, was expected.

"Jack, where's Ianto?"

"Ianto has taken some time off." It wasn't really a lie, and he found he didn't want to think too hard on the subject, for fear of losing the numbness.

"What? Why?" Gwen's questions overrode Owen's although both were of the same vain.

Tosh's question, however, threatened to shake him the most.

"Is he okay?"

Jack grimaced, his eyes closing for a second, and the others shared a worried look. When Jack opened his eyes again, it was with a kind of forced brightness that they each could see, but didn't really understand.

"Oh, I'm sure he's fine. Fantastic. Wish I was there, in fact." And they could easily see the truth in that.

Suddenly, Jack smiled. It was bright, blinding and utterly false, but they all grinned back at him and without loosening his grip on Gwen's hand, he clasped Toshiko's in his other. Owen, having no free hand as he was holding the majority of coffee, simply moved in close to Tosh's side.

"Right. Back to work. I believe the Election is tomorrow, wouldn't look good if there was a Weevil invasion now would it?"

Jack led them back to the Hub with jokes and laughter and they almost forgot that their team was missing a member. No one turned back to look at the space once occupied by the Police Box. Jack was the only one who knew it had been there and he had decided that denial would be his flavour of choice this time. It couldn't be worse than hope and waiting had been, after all.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Jack sighed as he felt eyes on him yet again. Three hours, and still they kept looking at him like they thought he might keel over at any moment.

Raising his head he lifted an eyebrow at Toshiko, giving into a smile when she blushed and turned away. He couldn't really blame them. He had been, _officially_, dead for almost a week. One of the longest, that. Abbadon had taken more from him than any other of his deaths, but not quite as much as he had thought it might. He had still come back.

He took a sip of coffee and almost spat the bitter liquid back into the cup.

Gwen might have been the heart of the team, but she couldn't make coffee worth a damn.

Realising this time that it was the former policewoman staring at him, he made a point of taking another mouthful of coffee and grinned thanks to her until she turned back to her work with her own smile. Then he spat it back out.

He had assumed, in the moments when he had given in momentarily to thinking about it that Ianto would be back by now. Regardless of the non-linear time he might have spent away, only a few minutes should have passed for them. Obviously the Welshman had fallen afoul of the Doctor's notoriously bad time keeping.

He remembered Rose regaling him with the tale of Jackie's slap when he had returned her home the first time. If Ianto was going to be gone a year, he would need to hire a new assistant. They wouldn't be able to last longer than a week fending for themselves, coffee wise. And he really could not bear to think of the size of the Starbucks expenses if the were to buy out each day.

He found it entirely too easy to think about Ianto leaving with the Doctor. About the Doctor leaving him behind. It had taken over a hundred years for him to reach the same point last time. Three hours was no where near enough time.

He simply assumed that he had finally cracked and had decided to continue on as normal until someone noticed and had him whisked off to a nice padded room.

Of course, he never wanted to see the Doctor's face again, new or old, and if he ever stepped foot in Torchwood, he might rethink his decision to demolish the number one enemy status. And if they did manage to find a half decent coffee maker, he would ship Ianto straight off to Torchwood Two.

But really, he had no feelings on the matter and was quite happy to drink crappy coffee, whilst his lover travelled the Universe with the man, who had once, been all Jack believed in.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Owen frowned at the two women as they spoke in low tones, one more voice drop away from whispering. A quick glance at Jack's newly re-furbished office showed him the Captain was focussed on swallowing his coffee and reading a thick report, so Owen pushed back his chair and decided to find out what the girls were gossiping about.

At his approach, Gwen shot Jack a cautious glance, and then, finding him in the same position Owen had, beckoned him the rest of the way, a finger on her lips directing his silence. Curiosity at the secrecy was all that kept him from speaking, just for the hell of it.

Tosh had the CCTV feeds up on her monitors from several angles around the Plass and when he looked at her in confusion and not a little frustration, she hit some keys and the images began to move.

He watched as Ianto walked into the frame of one camera, and out of another, striding, Owen assumed, towards the Hub to get his money. Suddenly he stopped and turned, and Owen looked at the screen which showed the area Ianto was facing. One minute the screen was empty, the next a blue box faded into view. Intrigued, Owen found himself moving closer, and he pulled over a chair to sit beside Tosh, never taking his eyes off of the footage.

Ianto moved towards the box, again disappearing from one screen to appear on the same screen as the blue box. Owen noticed the door had opened and a brown haired head was looking out. He watched as Ianto appeared to talk to the other man, catching a quick glimpse of a woman behind the man. Ianto seemed to decide something, and the unknown man clapped him on the shoulder, bringing him closer to the door, making as though to let the Welshman through the door. He stopped, looking off camera, and Owen estimated his eye line was about where the Water Tower stood. Right where he and Tosh had found Gwen and Jack.

He flicked his eyes to the last screen, which showed the Tower, and in front of it, there was Jack. Owen had never seen the American stand so still and tense and that said a lot, because he had seen the man standing on the roof of the Millennium Centre more than once.

Switching his attention back to the previous screen, he watched Ianto turn away from watching Jack and enter the blue box in front of the other man. The box promptly began to disappear and Owen quickly looked at the image of Jack. The Captain had his eyes closed before turning one-hundred-and-eighty degrees to face the Tower just as Gwen stepped off the lift.

The image froze and then returned to the beginning and Owen turned to look at his two co-workers, unsure really, what to say. Tosh saved him the trouble.

"That was the Doctor. The man in the blue box. Ianto left with the Doctor." Owen considered asking her how she could be so sure, but he had heard the old stories about the Doctor, and it stood to reason that Tosh would have learnt all she could.

Gwen had a thoughtful expression on her face as she tried to put pieces of memory together.

"The Doctor." It sounded more like an escaped thought than an actual statement, to Owen, but Gwen continued. "Every time I asked Jack about his not being able to die, he mentioned that he was waiting for someone; 'the right kind of doctor', he said. You don't think…? She trailed of, and of course they did all think that.

Jack had been waiting for this Doctor, and when the alien finally showed up, he left with the man's boyfriend knowing Jack would see them disappear.

"How long has Jack been waiting?" Because suddenly that was very important. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as they were all thinking.

Owen mentally kicked himself; _'boyfriend'_, hadn't he only days ago, called the Teaboy a 'simple part-time shag'? Obviously the girls were getting to him. Bleeding hearts the both of them. However, when Gwen answered, he had to add himself to that club as a fully paid up member.

"I don't know; Jack's not exactly open about it. He was in both the World Wars, and you remember the Fairies?" Of course they did. "Well, Jack told me he'd seen them before, in 1918. So it's been at least ninety years." She paused again. "But I think he's been here longer and I don't think he comes from any of those times, so he's probably been waiting since he first, well, _'got here'_," She trailed off again and Owen let out a low whistle. Over a hundred years. The poor Bastard.

The three of them looked towards Jack's office together, a move synchronised swimmers would be proud of. The Captain was still reading his report, the coffee now abandoned, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, the other holding the fifty-page report.

"This is not going to end well." He didn't need to see their nods to know they agreed with him. He only hoped they could keep Jack busy until Ianto came back. And then he planned to be as far away from Wales as possible. Just in case. In this job, he had found paranoia to be the safest approach.


	3. Chapter 3

His head felt like it was ready to split open, and having experienced that particular agony, he could confidently say it was no exaggeration.

No Ianto: no coffee, so he found himself walking out through the main Hub entrance quite spectacularly ignoring the prominent absence behind the counter and walking out into what had to be the sunniest day _ever_ in Cardiff.

Grimacing against the sudden glare and wishing he had brought dark glasses, Jack walked across the Plass very aware that he was tracing Ianto's steps back yesterday.

Coffee bought; five cups because it was habit, but drinking a cup on the way back he decided the extra one wouldn't go to waste anyway.

When he reached the main level, Tosh was already in and accepted her cup with thanks and a little more relief than it required. Apparently they were still sure he was a hallucination.

He didn't feel like a hallucination, but with the substances that came through the rift, who knew?

Gwen and Owen arrived next, their times close enough for it to have been accidental; when they spent the night together, they always left a twelve minute difference. Ianto had timed it.

They too accepted their coffees gratefully and he rolled his eyes at them. He knew they'd gotten little sleep the night before. Knew because he had spent the night fielding their calls.

He could have ignored them, but that would have sent them into a panic, he thought. They were being inordinately protective of him. Probably just residual worry after his death. Thankfully they didn't know about the Doctor, because they'd never let him have any peace.

His phone rang and before answering, he made sure the others knew what their jobs today were. Election Day. He had been only half joking the afternoon before when he told them they could have no incidents. Outside the Government and beyond the United Nations they might be, but as British Citizens they could still be made to heel.

"Captain Jack Harkness." He had forgotten to ask if anyone had been told of his demise. The lack of shocked silence or sharp screaming told him they hadn't.

"This is Tish Jones, I'm calling on behalf of Harold Saxon." Ah, not even an hour into the voting and already the political play was in swing.

"Miss Jones, I have not now, nor have I ever voted, and as hot as your candidate may be, you'll not change my mind today." And Saxon was hot. There was something behind his smile Jack found familiar, but he couldn't place it.

There was a moment of silence on the other end as this Tish learnt that stories of him were not an exaggeration, and then; "Captain, Mr Saxon does not require your vote, but your presence tomorrow morning." That was different. Well, it's not like he had a lot to do.

"Sure, where does he want me?" For once, the innuendo was unintentional. It was worrying; last night had hit him harder than he would let himself believe. There was no surprise there.

"Downing Street, of course Captain." _Of course?_ Did they know something the rest of the country didn't? He hated fixed elections, hated hidden agendas.

"Mr Saxon is confident then. The voting's just started."

"We are all confident, Captain. Mr Saxon is what is best for the country." He had always liked Harriet Jones, himself. But the Sorocrax episode had been a mess. However, he could not believe that Harriet had not been lead astray by Yvonne. Too much time spent with that woman and the most peace loving person would shoot at any target they could. If only to get her to shut up.

He still visited the former Prime Minister, she was one of very few people who knew he had a connection with the Doctor. Until then, he had always supported that the Doctor never meant to bring about her downfall. An image of the Doctor's brown eyes fixing on his, and then turning away, swam in his mind. He realised, he didn't know the Doctor at all, apparently.

A polite cough through the ear piece grounded Jack, and he thought quickly. Harriet would always be his favourite, but it couldn't hurt to form some kind of rapport with Saxon. Just in the event the man's arrogance wasn't entirely unfounded.

"I'm sure he is. Okay, when d'you want me?" A few more minutes and quick note taking because Ianto wouldn't be there to remember for him, and Jack hung up the phone and sat back with a sigh.

Was it so wrong to hope for some rift activity? Something a bit more exciting than writing reports? At least Abbadon had kept them busy.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Gwen paused on her way to the archives. No one but Ianto knew the system of storage. The man had been particularly tight-lipped about how everything had to be kept, and where.

And it had never mattered before; whatever you wanted, you just asked the archivist for, and minutes later it was placed on your desk with a fresh mug of coffee.

That was going to take a lot of time to adjust to. And how would they ever find anything again? She had no idea how long Ianto would be gone, and she was half tempted to ask Jack, but then she remembered the CCTV footage and decided she would rather just guess and try to figure out the archives. If more than a few weeks passed, she was going to reorganise everything, and buy a Tasimo. Ianto would just have to deal with the changes when he eventually returned.

"I have a meeting with the new Prime Minister tomorrow morning. Just so as you know." Jack's voice rose up behind her and she turned to see him exiting his office.

Tosh turned away from her computer, and Owen came up out of the med-bay.

"What's that?" Owen appeared wiping his hands clean on a slightly red cloth. She didn't want to know what experiments he was doing now. The 'rat jam' one still gave her shivers.

"I said, I'm having a meeting with the new PM tomorrow morning. In London." When none of them reacted, except to broadcast their confusion because it wasn't like Jack to give them this much advanced warnings of his comings and goings…well, maybe his _comings_, the American huffed out a breath. "I'll have to drive up overnight, so I won't be here for your little night time calls. You'll all have to find some other hotline to ring." He winked at them, and Gwen hoped she wasn't blushing as red as Tosh.

Owen seemed to be finding his humour again, after weeks under storm clouds, because he hit back with; "But you're the cheapest." And then disappeared back down into autopsy.

Jack stared at the spot where the young doctor had stood, and then barked out a laugh. His smile, when he turned back to her and Tosh, was completely genuine. For a moment she wondered how they could have ever believed his others real.

"You know, I think he's gonna be okay." He nodded his head once, and then turned with a chuckle back into his office.

Gwen shared a grin with the other woman and then turned back to her own task. The archives. Maybe she wouldn't wait a few weeks. After all, Ianto should expect change. He had left them.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Harold Saxon. A rather fitting name for a Prime Minister, he thought. He had had to come up with something sort of ordinary. Simply running as 'The Master' would have announced himself to the Doctor and his little band of followers far too early. But now, months' worth of planning, scheming and relentless psychic working had finally paid off. Because he now stood in his new office on his first day as Prime Minister for Britain.

The Doctor was somewhere in the city. He could feel him. But it was too late now for him to be more than a passing nuisance. The stage was set, and the play was going to be the finest ever.

He would have preferred to be as far from Earth as possible. Even now he could feel the filth of humanity on his skin. There were not enough sonic showers in the universe to erase decades lived as a human. He shuddered at the thought.

He blamed the Doctor. Had he not destroyed their people, he would never have been forced to lock away himself to survive. But then, all his misfortunes could be traced back to the Doctor. Even the relentless drumming in his mind, though he was quite certain that the Doctor did not realise that transgression at least.

The Doctor had locked the coordinates of the Tardis. The end of the Universe, or twenty first century Earth. A tough decision, but he thought he had chosen well with what little he had.

A few trips and all the roles had been cast. He could not wait for the moment to come. He just wanted to see the Doctor's face when he realised what was actually happening. It would be good, he knew it.

A knock sounded as his door.

"Captain Harkness to see you, Sir."

And then the door was thrown open and a tall broad man entered, blue military coat flapping around his calves as he walked.

The Master raised his hand, nodding for the secretary to leave them.

"Captain." His hand was clasped in a larger one, and a shock like electricity flashed through his arm and into his brain. Alarm bells, rusty from disuse, started ringing in warning.

"Prime Minister." Then the hand was gone and the sensation broke off abruptly. The ringing, however, did not stop and suddenly he found the Captain painful to look at.

He indicated the chairs before his desk, and then gestured for the man to sit.

"Please, call me Harry. Drink?" The Captain nodded a yes as he sat, and replied.

"Then it's Jack."

He used the pouring time to centre himself. There was something about 'Jack' that sent his time senses screaming. The man was just plain _wrong_. He was no usual twenty-first century human that was for sure.

"Now Jack, I know that previous administrations have allowed Torchwood free reign to do as it pleases, but I must say that after the Torchwood One tragedy, I plan for that to change."

Oh, how he had loved those stories though.

The Doctor's complete failure. It had almost made seeing the Daleks easy.

He handed Jack his drink, and allowed their fingers to brush slightly. The second he felt the shock, he sent his mind out like a whip across the American's, only to smack against a solid wall.

Blinking dazedly, he removed his hand, and took his own seat behind the desk, the distance easing the rawness of the other man's presence. No one else from this time had barriers around their mind like that. Luckily for him. His plan had relieved heavily on that fact.

Fact. That was it. The man across from him was a fact. A constant. Now that he knew, he could see the way time bent and buckled around the man. He shuddered involuntarily. It was impossible.

He took a calming sip of his drink. He wanted to destroy the Captain. The abomination to time that dared to exist. But it was too early. Such a move now would jeopardise the entire plan.

He forced himself to listen to the Freak's words. He wanted the meeting wrapped up and the fact out of his presence as fast as possible.

"…changes to the old ways, and we're acting much better then in Yvonne's days."

He forced himself to nod, and missed the suspicious frown that settled on Jack's face, as he looked at his watch.

With forced cheer he announced; "Is that the time? If you will excuse me Captain, but today is a busy one." And he rose from his seat.

Jack did the same.

"Of course Prime Minister." And without touching any part of the Freak, the Master ushered him out of the office door.

"A closer working relationship between this office and Torchwood is what I have planned Captain. Do not be surprised should you hear from us soon."

He slammed his door shut, and leant up against it, his hearts beating a tattoo in his chest, the drums rising into a crescendo as the ringing faded.

The abomination would have to be factored into the equations now. He didn't know what it actually was, but it was too dangerous to leave alone, and too disgusting to be allowed to exist. My, the fun he would have when the shows began.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Jack frowned across the Board room desk at his team. Toshiko, Owen and Gwen, in turn, frowned back at him.

"Let me get this straight." Owen said. "You're telling us the new Prime Minister is an alien or something?"

Jack nodded mutely. He knew how it sounded, but there was something about Saxon that unnerved him in an entirely inhuman way.

Owen continued. "And your reason for this is that he creeped you out? You sure it wasn't just him resisting the Harkness Charm?"

Almost against his wishes, Jack smirked back at the doctor. "Never happened yet, Owen." And then he turned serious again. "There was something familiar about him, but at the same time something alien." Groans greeted him. "No pun intended! He tried to read my mind. I'm sure he did."

That grabbed Tosh's attention and he realised, as she swung up straight in her chair, he had forgotten to mention that earlier.

"Read your mind? He has another amulet?" Jack wished it could have been that simple, but he knew a telepath when he felt one.

"No, he's a telepath. It's a natural ability. Met a few in my time. But he's strong."

His head still ached a little from the meeting. He had been told so many years go by the Doctor, that while his telepathy skills left a lot to be desired; his shields were impenetrable without granted access. The Doctor had decided the strength was blocking his mind and his telepathy, and they had never gotten around to working on either, because suddenly they'd found themselves on the Games Station.

Gwen looked concerned, Owen looked mildly curious, and Tosh looked like she wanted to experiment on him.

"Look, maybe it's nothing, but I don't want to take any chances. Toshiko, I want you to find out everything you can about Saxon; birth, education, previous jobs, what he eats for breakfast, everything. And anything that looks even remotely unusual, I want to know about it. Gwen, see if you can find people that have met him; be a reporter, researcher, just find out what they think about him." The two women left with purpose and he turned to Owen. "I'm going to need you to watch the rift. I have some calls to make, find out what I can and let Two know what's going on. The girls'll be busy. Even the slightest blip and we need to know."

Owen stood to leave. "You really think something's coming?"

"Yeah, I do." Which seemed good enough for the Englishman and Jack felt a moment of relief that they seemed to be trusting each other again. His head suddenly shot pain.

"Owen, get us some aspirin would you?" He blinked when some was instantly placed in front of him.

Owen smirked smugly. "You slam open less doors when your head aches."

Jack let him leave with his smirk still intact, and gulped down the pain killers dry.

He looked down through the glass wall a few moments later. Owen was at his desk, hitting a few keys every so often, Tosh was beating a furious pattern on her own keyboard, then jumping up and typing some more on Gwen's. Gwen was on the phone, probably to some of the contacts she had brought with her when leaving the Police. She would step aside each time Tosh approached, never breaking her conversation. Suddenly, Tosh stopped, her head flicking from side to side, looking for something. Without raising his head from the rift calculations, Owen held up Tosh's blackberry, and she grabbed it as she ran passed, back to her desk.

It had been a long time since the team had been this in sync with each other. The ghost of Suzie hovered at her empty workspace and if he listened hard enough, he could almost imagine the sound of Ianto's coffee making.

This team had faced the end of the world and pulled through closer than ever. Why did he feel like something worse was coming?


	4. Chapter 4

Tosh was filling Jack in on everything she had found, all the many inconsistencies of Harold Saxon's life, when Owen called them.

"Jack, guys, you better see this." It had been a long day of research and little action, so she wasn't surprised by how eagerly she and Jack complied.

Racing into what she liked to call the centre of the Hub, they found Owen still sitting at his desk. But his posture was straight and his legs were flat against the floor.

Gwen joined them instantly and Owen pointed to the screen above him that was playing the evening's news. He raised the sound just as a familiar face filled the screen.

Tosh couldn't help echoing Gwen's gasp, but she stayed silent, listening to the broadcast.

_"Once again, these people are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Should the public have any sightings of the group, known as 'The Doctor', 'Ianto Jones' and 'Martha Jones', they are to report the incident to the Police immediately. They are not to be approached. In other news…"_ Owen cut the sound, and they sat dumbly for a moment, staring at nothing.

"Teaboy is the third enemy of the country. Did he try to re-organise the armoury?" They shouldn't laugh but the tension was so high, she really wasn't surprised they all did. Even if it was weakly.

Jack rallied himself and she turned to him.

"Right. So we know Ianto's in London at least. If he's with the Doctor, then he'll be okay for now. Saxon is watching us, so unless Ianto calls here, we can't contact him, it'd put him at too much of a risk." He thought for a moment, looking at them all one by one, and she realised he was wondering what they knew of the Doctor.

"We know where Ianto went, well, _who_ he went with. The CCTV footage showed the Doctor leaving with him." Jack met her eyes, and she almost gasped at the pain there. In a blink it was gone but she had seen it and she was glad Mary's amulet was destroyed, she wouldn't like to have felt even the smallest traces of that emotion. Although, she'd never heard anything from Jack.

Jack looked relieved not to have to explain.

"Right, Good. Okay. The Doctor is tactless, he gets involved in things he really shouldn't but he is not a threat to Britain. Which means that if Saxon wants him caught, we were right and something more is going on." Jack looked like he was going to say more, but the phone in his office rang, and he went to answer it.

They couldn't hear what was being said, but they still didn't speak. Everything the last few days had been a bit surreal. And now Ianto was an 'on-the-run' felon. It was insane. It was Torchwood.

When Jack returned, he looked a lot more concerned.

"The Prime Minister's Office has ordered you to the Himalayas. Apparently, there have been increasing sightings of the Abominable Snowman." Even as worried as Jack obviously was, his eyebrow showed just what he thought of these 'sightings'.

Tosh couldn't help but tease him a little.

"Everything you've seen and done, and you don't believe in Bigfoot Jack?" Still, she didn't expect the seriousness of his answer.

"What? No, I believe. I met them once, a whole family of them, got stranded here when their ship malfunctioned during a vacation. Only, they all died in the nineteen-eighties and they're supposed to fall into myth now." His brows were furrowed in thought.

"Saxon wants us out of the way. Well, the three of you, anyway. Me he wants up close." Tosh was reminded of the old saying; 'keep your enemies closer'.

Gwen spoke before she could.

"So it's a set up then? If Saxon is an alien, why don't we just go and get him like we would any other threat?"

Jack looked at her, as though considering what she was saying. "When you spoke to the people who know him, they said he was 'best for the country', right? Well everyone says that, but no one seems to remember _exactly_ what his goals and promises are. He's using something as a sort of signal to get to everyone." He trailed off, but Tosh had caught a hold of the idea.

The four of them weren't affected, even before she researched Saxon's fake history. So what did Torchwood use that was different to everyone else? Oh, and wasn't _that_ a short list. _Signals._ The phones.

"Archangel. Jack, he's using the phones!" She was going to go on, could see the realisation grow on Jack's face, but was disrupted by the ringing of Jack's mobile. Since he was not currently wearing his headset, he flipped open the phone itself and seeing the caller id, switched on the speaker phone.

"Jack?" The rather timid voice of Ianto Jones echoed tinily around the Hub.

"Ianto." Tosh knew Jack was putting a lot of effort into controlling his voice. The others couldn't, but she could see his knuckle white grip on Owen's desk.

"Jack, I…" Before he could get any further, Jack broke him off abruptly.

"He's using the phone systems. Tell the...tell the Doctor to stay off of the phones. If you're near a wifi connection, Tosh'll send you everything we know." They heard Ianto try to speak again, but Jack wouldn't let him. "Just do it Ianto, Saxon's watching us too closely for us to contact you." And then suddenly he was mad and they all realised there was a whole other level they just weren't getting. "I don't know what Saxon wants, or how he got here, but I'm damn sure it has something to do with the Doctor. Just make sure he gets this finished and sticks around 'til the end. Because I am done putting this planet back together after he runs." He slammed the phone closed, and after a few harsh breaths, straightened from the slight hunch he had fallen into.

"Tosh, send Ianto everything you can. And then I want you to prepare for a full lockdown." They all turned to him in shock. "Saxon is planning something big."

He was interrupted again by Owen, who was pointing at the reoccurring newsflash; _"Prime Minister announces first contact with alien species; Toclafane."_

They gaped for a moment, then turned back to Jack.

"Okay, so now we _know_ it's something big. I'm being flown to the Valiant tonight, and you're supposed to be heading for the mountains. Whatever Saxon wants, he cannot be allowed access to Torchwood. Two will be going into the same state of lockdown when I tell them to, One's still gone and Four, well, if Saxon can find it, then he probably deserves to get in. Torchwood is going to be the last defence we have, and we are not handing it over to some unknown alien." They nodded, still mostly in shock, and moved to follow Jack's orders, both spoken and unspoken.

Everything was still happening so fast, there just wasn't enough time for anything but reacting.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

The Doctor watched in horror as Martha's parents were taunted in their mobile prison, his hand on her arm the only thing stopping Martha from racing over to them. Movement like that would make the perception filters useless.

The Master turned, and he barely held in a gasp. He knew the other Time Lord could feel him, could sense the connection between them, natural, even after centuries of silence. This was why he couldn't just destroy the Master. He wanted, no _needed_ the presence of another in his head; needed to know he wasn't the only of his kind in the Universe.

They maintained a sort of warped eye contact until the Master turned his gaze to the left at the sound of a vehicle pulling to a stop.

When a figure emerged from the black SUV, the Master grinned to himself, the kind of grin the Doctor had long ago learned to be weary of.

The newcomer stepped into the glow of one of the floodlights and again the Doctor found himself holding back a gasp. Beside him, his newest companion did not hold back. He moved his restraining hold from Martha to Ianto, just in case.

He had heard second hand, the conversation the Welshman had had with his Boss. A rather one-sided conversation, he thought, and even with the mediation Ianto had put into the words, Jack's accusations had stung, just a little. And he refused to believe that the reason was their grounding in truth.

Shaking off the memory, he concentrated on the meeting in front of him. He could tell from the Master's posture that Jack's presence was making his skin crawl. If Jack noticed, he gave nothing away, except to creep closer to the Master, pushing at the boundaries of Personal Space.

This was a Jack he remembered, except, Jack wasn't flirting and there was nothing light in his expression. Thankful for the direction of the wind, the Doctor strained his hearing.

"You have been disobeying my orders, Captain." Jack merely shrugged one shoulder and took a step closer. "Torchwood seems to have locked itself down, no communications in or out, and no way to gain entrance to any of them. I suppose this is the part where you deny all knowledge of that?"

The Master cocked an eyebrow, but Jack took another step, and the Doctor saw the other Time Lord tense further.

"Oh no, that was all me. I don't take kindly to being ordered after aliens that died out years ago, especially," and the Doctor strained more as the Captain's voice dropped lower, almost leaning into the Master's ear. "when those orders come from another species everyone believed dead, Time Lord." The Doctor's eyes widened, how the hell had Jack figured it out? Ianto hadn't had time to tell him, and there was no way to tell just by looking at either of them, it's why humans always forgot he was indeed alien.

The Master appeared just as shocked, but he recovered quickly.

"You are quite the surprise Captain Jack Harkness. But then, that's not really who you are, is it? Do you know what you are Harkness? You are wrong." When the words didn't seem to have their intended effect, the Master moved in for the kill, an irony the Doctor would later reflect upon.

"It's why your precious Doctor left you behind. Because you're wrong. Time bends around you, and you shouldn't exist." The Doctor held his breath as the Master spoke, wishing he were closer so he could see how Jack was taking the words, whilst part of him wished he could just run away from this, because he had thought those words, spoken them in explanation to Ianto back at the end of the Universe.

The Master was relentless, but one thing the Doctor realised, was that he had not figured it all out. Because as his words threatened Jack's life, he failed to understand the human's smug smirk.

"You should not exist, Freak. But luckily, I have this gun here, and then you will be taken care of. It's a shame your plans to keep Torchwood out of my hands will fail though. You can't lead them from the grave."

Jack smirked brighter, his last words airy. "You'd be surprised." Before a gunshot cracked across the night and Jack fell. The Doctor held fast to Ianto, though whether to stop himself or the Welshman, he couldn't be sure.

Before he could do anything, even if he had wanted to, the Master turned towards the guards still standing beside the now quiet Jones family.

"Move these to the Valiant, then come back for the Freak." He indicated Jack's body. "I want to know what it is before I incinerate it." Then he turned towards the waiting plane and walked onboard.

The area now clear, the Doctor released his companion's arm, and was not surprised when the young man ran straight towards Jack. He followed, not at a much slower pace it had to be acknowledged and tried to ignore the pain in the Welshman's eyes.

Jack's empty blues stared lifelessly up at him, and he ignored them too. Carefully, he lifted the former Time Agent's arm, removing the wrist strap he was surprised the man still had. They would need it. It was harder to ignore the ringing the small contact produced, but he tried anyway.

When Martha reached them, he realised it was time and he allowed her to help him back to his feet. He held out a hand to his other companion, but Ianto seemed reluctant to release his hold on Jack's still hand.

"We have to go." Ianto looked up in disbelief.

"We can't just leave him here. You heard the Master, you heard what he wants. What if he wakes up while they're burning him?" He shivered at the imaged, but this had to be done this way.

"We have to go before someone sees us." His tone was forceful, and Ianto obeyed like a trained soldier.

Sonic screwdriver in hand, he adjusted the wrist strap's settings.

Pulling both his companions' hands until they rested on the strap, he pushed one of the buttons and the airfield vanished from sight. The Doctor took a moment to be glad Jack hadn't come back in time to see him leave again. There were many things he was not proud of; a distressing number involved the Immortal man.

All three grimaced in pain as they arrived on the Valiant. Obviously he had become accustomed to his ship's movements through time and space, erratic as they may have been, but then, even their one-way thrown together trip back from the future hadn't been quite as painful.

Ianto was the first to comment on the obvious presence of light outside, both of his human companions moving to one of the port view windows. He held back his reply; they would see soon enough that the Valiant was not an ordinary air craft carrier. He had more important things to look for.

Reaching out, he searched for his ship, he could feel her presence aboard, but he needed to pinpoint her exact location. _There_.

"Come on." He led the way through the rooms of pipes and machinery, until he could see her in front of him. Letting out a whoop of delight that in no way made him sound like a thirteen year old girl, he ran to the Tardis and unlocked the door.

The connection between them overloaded the instant he set foot inside her, and he immediately threw up shields between them. Martha and Ianto pushed passed him as he gaped in horror at the blood red pulsing control centre. Vaguely he heard himself muttering words of denial as he walked closer to the caged central column. What had the Master done? His poor ship.

"What's wrong with her Doctor?" Martha's tentative touch to his shoulder snapped him back into focus, and he schooled his features into a blank stare.

"She's a paradox machine. He's cannibalised her." He could not however mask the horror in his voice. He weakened his shields slightly, but the Tardis's pain at being something so impossible hurt too much and he strengthened them again almost instantly.

In a sudden move, he swung back to the doors and stalked through them, the others following behind. He needed to see the Master now, confront him, _help him_, before it was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't hard to find the Conference Room; they just followed the last of the intended Ambassadors. It was harder to keep Martha from running to her family when she saw them. Heavily guarded and chained together like a prison work line.

The President lay dead and the Master was gloating into one of the cameras. None of the people present seemed particularly concerned and the Doctor realised he had underestimated, somewhat, the extent of the Master's control.

The 'Toclafane' were circling around their Master's head and then suddenly the fabric of time shifted. He felt it, felt the gaping hole that opened up, felt as it was overcome by the Paradox Machine and then the sky outside the windows was full of the floating silver balls, all headed for Earth.

The Master was laughing manically, looking giddy at the prospect of so much destruction.

The Doctor shifted forward, and was instantly pinned with mad eyes, very little sanity left in the brown orbs.

"Ah, Doctor, just in time for the party, but too late, I'm afraid, to stop it." The eyes left him, picking out Ianto and Martha through their perception filters. "And you brought your little friends. How nice. My friends are a little busy at the moment." He indicated the three flying orbs, which took that as their cue and disappeared one after the other. The Master continued.

"But I did bring you a present, Doctor, because every party should have presents. And games, you always loved games." The Master smiled again, but the Doctor was focussed on the past, he _had_ always loved games. When Gallifrey hadn't burnt, and the Master was still Koschei.

Guards dragging something into the room pulled him from his musings and he looked up into the blue eyes of Jack.

"Just leave the Freak there," the Master directed the guards, who promptly threw Jack to his knees, arms handcuffed behind his back.

"You bastard." Jack never had been able to stay quiet for long.

The backhand, when it came, seemed to surprise both Jack and the Master. Obviously neither of them had expected the Master to touch him. It would have been amusing. If it weren't so completely not.

"Now, now, be a good little Freak. Otherwise I'll be forced to kill you again." The Master turned to him then, and the Doctor had the feeling that this was about to go spectacularly badly. Even with humans falling to the Master's pets, the Doctor just knew it was going to get worse.

"Did you know about the Freak here?" The Doctor said nothing, but that in itself told the answer. "Oh, but you did didn't you. That's why you ran from him." Jack actually turned to him at the repetition of that, and apparently he found the truth in his eyes because the Doctor saw something die on his face.

Still Jack would not let the Master win.

"Do you have a point? Because I'm bored, and those guards of yours promised me a very thorough search later."

"Oh, I have plans for you too, Freak. And then I'm going to play with those two." He waved a lazy hand in the direction of Ianto and Martha. Right. They needed a plan of their own.

"Would you like to see what the Doctor really thinks of you? How your, what was it, oh, yes, Teaboy over there was such a brilliant replacement. How the three of them together led me here? Do you think this blind loyalty will still be here then?"

_Never doubted him, never will._ Jack's voice echoed in the Doctor's memory. Told the Doctor would kill him if the Daleks didn't get there first, and still Jack had believed in him. Somehow, he didn't think the sentiment still applied. Certainly wouldn't after this.

But they needed the distraction. He had a plan.

People were already dying, and the Paradox was holding and it wouldn't be perfect, in fact, it would be so imperfect he wouldn't usually suggest it, but this was the last resort.

He made no move to stop what was happening, and the moment the Master's hands gripped painfully into the sides of Jack's head, he passed Martha the Vortex Manipulator. Ianto would have to stay, he hated that, but there was no way the two could touch the strap together. He whispered the plan to Martha, wished there was more he could do and stared at the pain on Jack's face, as Martha prepared to vanish from beside him.

A year. He wondered if any of them would last that long.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Jack held in the scream that threatened to rip through him. The Master was a lot stronger, psychically than he had prepared for, far stronger than the Doctor, and it hurt so much to feel that presence beat against his mental shields.

Dropping his shields required him to literally abolish them from within his own mind. He had no idea if he would be able to put them back into place again. And he really didn't want the Master (or the Doctor) to have unlimited access to his mind.

However, dying would most likely allow the Master access before he fully resurrected, and either his shields would be down upon waking, or the Master would be trapped within his head with him.

He would shudder at the thought, if he could spare the energy.

There was no way to truly avoid it, and honestly, there was part of him, the part that had been abandoned by the Doctor, just one too many times, that wanted to see whether the Master was right. It was the Masochistic part of him that seemed to enjoy hurting himself, that backed up the pained curiosity.

This was going to happen, the only control he had was how, and he was going to choose the easiest way.

Without a sound, he forced his way through his own walls and knelt oddly detached as they crumbled away.

The Master's surprise at the action was short lived, and suddenly Jack's head was filled with memories not his own.

He saw the Doctor, Ianto and Martha, walking around what appeared to be a control centre. There were words, voices echoing above the images.

 

_"Jack's wrong."_

Ianto at work with the Doctor, flicking switches, second in command.

"Jack was never quiet."

Ianto finding someone with sharp teeth, guards escorting her to a prison cell. The Doctor watching as a rocket ship sprang to life, adjusting switches, running with Ianto away to fix a problem.

"I ran away from him. He hurts to look at. An Impossible thing."

Martha pointing out a watch.

"I regenerated."

The watch calling out, golden light; vortex light. Opening.

"Time Lord."

Watching from within the Tardis as the Doctor stands frozen.

"Master."

And then his mind was his own again, all be it wide open.

He couldn't help it as his telepathy lashed out, too stunned by what he had heard and seen to really care.

Then he heard it. Something calling to him, golden, ageless. His voice, but different. He remembered the Master's watch.

"The watch." He didn't realise he had spoken it out loud until both Time Lords questioned.

"What?"

"The watch. You used a Chameleon Arch. Became human." He didn't know where this knowledge was coming from. The golden voice? "I've seen it before. I…"

He paused, amazed to find that while the Master had been sharing his memories, someone had released his bindings. Probably the Doctor.

With shaking fingers, he reached deep into his pocket, feeling the unnaturally cold metal of a long kept treasure.

He pulled out the fob watch to twin gasps, Martha and Ianto he realised, and gasped himself as the front flipped open for the first time.

He couldn't tell if he fell into time, or if she fell into him. But it happened and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

The Doctor stared in shock at the picture formed before him. Another Time Lord. All this time, and he hadn't been the last. Had even travelled with one, and not known. Three of them had survived, that he now knew of, were there more? And Jack, just who was he really?

For the first time since they were young, the Doctor met the Master's eyes and there was no anger there, no hatred, only shock and amazement.

The golden tendrils of time and the vortex finally faded, the last slipping silently into Jack's skin and only then did he realise Jack's shields had remained open the whole time, because they slammed shut with surprising force. He flinched, and sensed more than saw the Master do the same.

When no one moved, and no one spoke, the Doctor pushed himself to his knees, rocking towards Jack.

"Jack?"

Blue eyes shot up at the name, brighter and deeper than before, older too, though the Doctor realised, Jack's eyes had always looked older than they should.

As their eyes connected, Jack dropped the walls around his mind, just a little, enough for him to recognize the Time Lord before him.

"Captain."

He wasn't sure whether it was his voice that spoke the name, or the Master's, but it was right, and the Doctor had the sudden horror of knowing that with this Time Lord, things could actually get much worse.

"Doctor." The blue eyes left him, he felt emptier. "Master." The Captain said both their names with the same levels of despair and affection. Yes, this had the potential to go very very wrong.

He needed to get Martha out of here, but there was no way to do it without both of the other Time Lords noticing, and he didn't know quite where Jack stood anymore.

So he watched the reunion before him, and hoped that at his core, the Captain hadn't changed.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

The Captain. All this time and they had both been trapped as humans. Opposite ends of time, but still so close. And he had spoken to the human version, touched him.

He looked deep into the blue eyes, remembering green eyes that could sparkle like emeralds. And he found it, the essence that was the man. It really was the Captain, his Aleksei.

"Aleksei." He reached out, but stopped. The blue eyes disappeared behind their lids and when they reappeared there was a soft haze coating them.

"Koschei." Spoken into his mind and ears, and long fingers were stroking his cheek. He tensed waiting for the shock of the _(Freak)_ Immortal's touch, but it never came and he realised he was being shielded. He leant into the touch, bringing his own fingers up to mirror the action, rubbing gently against the unfamiliar cheek.

He remembered this man. Remembered decades together as friends and lovers, remembered a different body but the same mind. Remembered himself as he had been once. He remembered the three of them; the Doctor, the Master and the Captain. For just a short while.

With that touch he remembered the Doctor spread out sated beneath him and his Captain's look of betrayal as he watched from the door.

He remembered coming home to an empty bed. The Captain gone, never returning.

His eyes hardened with the pain of the memories; trying and failing to assimilate them with the way he was now.

His former lover noticed, pulling back his hand and falling back on his heels away from his touch.

"What happened to you Koschei? Where have you gone?"

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

His mind was a mess. Memories toppling over each other as his timeline straightened itself up inside him. He could feel the whole of time around him, could, on the edge of his senses, feel the other two of his kind. He could sense the Tardis, so loudly, and the gaping loss of Gallifrey echoed around everything.

And then there was himself. He shivered unconsciously; he hadn't always liked himself, in any form, but this was something far worse.

He shook it off, focussing on the man in front of him. The Master. Of them all, after everything the three of them had each been through, the Master was the most changed. Jack could feel it. Could see it in the eyes that held madness instead of love.

Madness. He didn't fool himself in thinking his absence had made him this way. He had had every right to leave when he had, and maybe this madness was just another thing he had missed seeing.

The Master hadn't replied to his questions, not that he expected an answer. Perhaps he would never really know.

Finally, unable to look at those eyes anymore; so cold, so empty, he turned toward the other Time Lord. The Doctor.

And he'd thought he had enough mixed feelings for him before.

He could see that the Doctor remembered everything. Good. The man had always suffered guilt well; Jack was not going to alleviate that when the guilt was well founded.

However, the Doctor was watching him with suspicion.

Without a smile, he turned his eyes to Ianto. His ex-lover, he supposed, looked shocked, confused and the way he avoided Jack's eyes, was obviously feeling guilty too.

And then there was Martha. The Doctor picked his companions well. This one was strong, brave, and holding his Vortex Manipulator.

A quick flick of his eyes back to the Doctor and he knew why the suspicion was there.

Hurt flared from the part of him that refused to stop being human. Still so little belief in him. Did he really think Jack would let the Earth burn? That he would allow the humans to die? His team, no his _friends?_

It was almost enough to make him do it in spite. Almost. Instead, he sent images to the Doctor, diverted the Master by looking at him again and stroking his arm, and with a mental push, Martha disappeared.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

The Doctor reeled from the images that assaulted him. Bodies locked together, the Captain the way he remembered, wrapped around that regeneration of the Master. Then himself, laying naked beneath the same Master. Then Ianto, stretched out, writhing as pleasure mounted, then the Tardis from a distance, his hand on the Welshman's shoulder as he turned away and the door closed.

As he felt the shift beside him of Martha's departure, no comments or exclamations rising from the Master just yet, he understood the unspoken message. And it hurt just a little more than guilt usually did.

_Some things never change._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are interested, Aleskei comes from the Greek (Alexis) meaning "defender" and "protector". I thought it fitting.

Morning came and went. Night fell without recognition, the cycle repeated with little change.

Two weeks passed with no appearance from the Master and no sighting of Jack.

The guards were no help; mindless drones carrying out their Commander's orders to the letter, no personal thoughts left to spare for answering their captives' questions.

Their present accommodation left much to be desired, though the Doctor had always had a particular dislike for bars, and with no way to pass the time, talking had been all they could do.

Talking, which inevitably concluded with everyone agreeing that their situation was the sole fault of the Doctor.

He had received more slaps form Martha's mother than Jackie Tyler had ever given him.

He simply refused to think about the last talk they had had, which had ended with the consequence that only Ianto was not ignoring him.

He couldn't really find it in himself to apologise; he quite liked the silence. It gave him much needed time to think. And there was much to think about.

Such as why they all could, in fact, think, when it was obvious the Master had such a strong psychic hold on everyone else onboard the ship. Surely the Master would have thought them much less of a threat if he had control of them.

Whatever the Doctor had expected, the complete absence of attention had never made the list.

Perhaps the Master was too busy having fun with Jack.

He knew the Captain was still onboard; though his presence was severely muffled to his senses occasionally he would feel a sudden spark that made him flinch, before it faded once again.

After Jack had helped Martha to leave, the Doctor had hoped Jack was going to help. However, he had heard nothing from the man since the two former lovers had disappeared together.

He had learnt that he needed to work harder at trusting Jack. But still doubt crept in, and he began to think his trust too human. He supposed it was only a matter of time before the doubt would be transferred into guilt.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and his brow creased in confusion. The only time anyone came to them was to deliver food and water. Both of which were not due for a few more hours.

He tensed, springing to his feet and facing out through the bars. Not quite sure what he was going to do, but having to do something.

It was Jack that walked into view, and the Doctor's flinch had nothing to do with his immortality.

Jack's face was gaunter than he ever thought the Factness would allow. His once bright eyes were sunken and so cold, showing nothing but an empty reflection as though everything simply bounced off of him.

He was flanked by two guards and the Doctor couldn't decide whether it was for protection or imprisonment.

He wanted to speak. To say something to see whether any of Jack actually remained.

Never in his memory of the human or the Time Lord had he ever seen Jack like this. It scared him.

Before he had the chance though, Jack had reached the front of their cage and Ianto spat at him.

The Doctor was unsure which of them was the more shocked by the action, but it certainly wasn't the guards who instantly raised their weapons.

Both of Jack's hands came down heavy on the arms holding the guns, and he forcefully pushed them down.

"No. He wants them alive." The voice was as blank as the eyes and the Doctor shivered. "I'll deal with it. Leave, both of you." The guards hesitated as the command obviously contradicted a previous order. So Jack wasn't as free as he appeared.

"The Master…" One spoke, but was cut off before he could really begin.

"The Master said you had to know where I was at all times. You know where I am, now wait outside and close the doors." This seemed to satisfy them and they obeyed, leaving Jack alone on the other side of the cage.

Neither spoke, and this close, the Doctor could see a slight but persistent tremor in the Captain's body.

Jack titled his head to the left, as though listening to something only he could hear, and the Doctor was sure the constant presence of the Master in his mind faded slightly.

Dull eyes blinked, and then he could see a faint glimmer that hadn't been there before. The smallest trace of the Jack he knew in any form.

As Jack straightened his head, his gaze flicked over each of them before returning to the Doctor.

"Quite a party you've got here Doctor." An eyebrow quirked at him and he found himself responding in kind.

Ianto, however, apparently felt less accommodating, as he spat out again.

"You bastard. You betrayed us. You left us to go with that psycho."

Jack's eyes flashed fire as he looked at the Welshman. But that too was duller than it should have been.

"You're the last person who can talk about betrayal Ianto." The human cowered slightly, and the Doctor knew there was more than one story there.

Jack seemed to rein himself in, taking a deep breath and releasing it with a shudder which drained the anger from him. His shoulders dropped slightly.

"I didn't betray you. You're here aren't you? Still alive, right?"

Couldn't really argue with that, they were, after all, alive. However, was it really safe for Jack to talk like this? Wouldn't the Master hear?

He asked Jack the question and got another quirked eyebrow in response. When nothing else came, he muttered a frustrated; "Captain."

"Jack." Was the reply to that, and he smiled. Yes, the Time Lord had always hated having only a title. He didn't question that he chose 'Jack' over his given name, it wasn't like he used 'Theta' anymore himself.

The Doctor nodded his acceptance and Jack finally answered. With a question of his own.

"You remember the Academy; do you remember our Psi training?" He did, so he nodded, unsure where this was heading and unhappy he couldn't find the connection himself. "What were our particular talents?"

He knew just who the 'our' incorporated so he didn't bother to ask, he just remembered.

The Master, playing games always, tricking the others, manipulation and hypnosis had been his strengths, still were as the Earth currently attested to.

He himself had always been able to read people, look inside them and gain what he needed to know. And the Captain, _Jack_ he mentally corrected, had always been there, covering their tracks…_covering_.

He looked up in surprise as the answer came to him. No wonder Jack looked so drawn.

"You're cloaking his mind."

"Not just his." And he realised that was true, knew now why things felt muffled, why none of them were becoming controlled Zombies at the Master's will. They weren't being ignored, but it just wasn't working.

"Jack…" He didn't actually know what he wanted to say, but there must have been enough emotion in the one name, because Jack softened even more. A slight smile graced his lips. A far cry from the Galactic Grin the Doctor was used to.

"He can sense you, sense any thoughts you think loud enough, but otherwise, he just thinks you're all under his control." Jack paused, thinking, then obviously came to a decision, because he continued. "I can hold it when I'm alive, but the time between dying and regenerating you're on your own."

The Doctor thought his saw an apology there, but it wasn't the other man's fault so he ignored it. Instead he studied Jack closer, peering deeper into the blue eyes. Something niggled at the back of his own mind, and he tried to work out what he was just missing, without thinking too hard, lest the Master hear.

Jack flinched suddenly, bent double and gasped quietly. One hand gripped a bar of their cage tightly, the other was clutching at his stomach. The pieces began to fall into place.

"Jack." It wasn't a question, so much as an exhalation as he realised what was happening and concern rose within him.

Jack took several deep breaths and then visibly pushed away the pain, the Doctor noticed, however, that the fine trembling had increased.

Eventually Jack straightened but his eyes only met the Doctors' for a second before sliding away to look at nothing.

His voice, when he spoke, trembled in time with his body, and the words echoed hollowly from his mouth.

"It hurts. I'm wrong and _it hurts_. And the Tardis…God Doctor! The Tardis is in so much pain. Can you feel her? Can you hear her screaming?"

The Doctor gulped when Jack did meet his eyes. So much pain there, and horror, so much horror and he wondered if his own eyes held even a tenth of the same emotions, even though they felt overwhelming to himself.

The Captain, so aptly named, for there had never been a Tardis that would not fly for him, and fly well. The mental connections Jack could make with them had filled many of the Time Lords with envy. And Jack had never picked one for himself; instead he had had them all. He had once told the Doctor that if he wanted, he could feel every one, where ever they might be. He had gambled and lost much betting against Jack. He had always managed to pinpoint their locations to an astoundingly accurate degree.

Jack had blocked out the minds of those on Gallifrey and replaced them with the many Tardis.

As much as the Doctor had felt the heart-wrenching emptiness of being the last Time Lord, Jack was now facing the same, but for his ships. And to have the only connection be to that of one cannibalised ship. A Paradox. He was so very, very glad for the blanket of Jack's mind over his own.

"I can't feel her Jack. You're blocking her from me." He paused, but it needed to be said, so many times. "Thank you."

The blue eyes flashed with something that wasn't pain and horror, but far more like the Jack he had always known, and he felt himself relax a little. However; "Jack, you need to shut her out yourself."

Jack simply looked at him, distant, and the Doctor knew someone else was vying for the Captain's attention. He felt a surge of hatred for the Master that he quickly smothered.

Jack answered, tone as distracted as his mind. "Can't. I'm blocking too much. Have to leave my mind open or it won't work."

Shock and desperation had the Doctor speaking before he really thought out the words. A mistake, as usual.

"Jack! It'll kill you."

"Oh Doctor." The chuckle was bitter and painful to hear. "I think we both know the fallacy in that logic. Were it true, there'd be no problem." And the Doctor remembered how Jack felt to a Time Lord, even a blocked one. And to feel it in oneself…

He thought that he should never have gone back to Cardiff. He should have found a different rift to re-fuel on. One where he would not have left running away to the end of the Universe and into the arms of destruction.

"Jack…" But he got no further, for Jack was suddenly all business.

"Explain what you need to, to them. The Master won't be able to notice. You'll feel Doctor, when my shields drop, so you'll need to let them know then too. And your plan? It'll work, I'm only keeping things out of your head, if you make the connection yourself, it'll hold." Then he whistled, a slight grin reminiscent of the old Jack (and how the Doctor hated that there was such a distinction) when the two guards snapped to attention instantly and entered to escort him away.

Jack's eyes went cold again, blank, and some of the heaviness lifted from the Doctor's mind. Not as much as had been placed there, however, and he knew Jack's words were true. The Master wouldn't hear them today.

He watched Jack's retreat and then turned to the collection of questioning faces.

Slipping back onto the cell floor, he wove the tale of a planet of gold and a fleet of sentient ships, and of a man whose mind could hold too much for his own good.

It distracted him from thinking too much on whether, in a year, there would be anything for Martha left to save.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

He couldn't help it. No matter how hard he tried, the blue eyes before him kept sliding into the image of emeralds he remembered almost poetically.

Months had passed since becoming Prime Minister, three now, almost four. He held Earth in his hands, figuratively, and his former lover at his fingertips, literally.

A smirk curled over his lips as he ran said fingertips over the Captain's tender flesh. Tender because even as he touched it, he could feel it reforming, regenerating.

The Cap…_Freak_ had yet to wake and the smirk grew; perhaps he had been a little rough this time.

The Captain was still so flexible, and the Master was amused, still, to know that this body had so many of the same pleasure points as the green-eyed version had.

He didn't need to force the Captain, though sometimes he did just for the thrill, he knew in a strange distanced way, that the Captain still loved him, or who he had been, and he thrilled at the knowledge.

The Doctor truly was on his own against two united Time Lords. That he felt nothing but disgust for the Captain, seemed not to worry the man, and he took immense pleasure in exposing the Captain's pathetic-ness.

His plans were working well, coming to fruition faster than he had expected. Silos were built and being built, the rockets of war were in development, and soon the Universe would be ruled by Time Lords as it always should have been. By one Time Lord, anyway.

And the drums were becoming satisfied. He knew the Captain was blanking them from him when he lived and upon his death they sprang back; a loud orchestra of madness. It would have been enough to limit the number of deaths he forced upon his Captain, had he not discovered that after his death, and while his body came back from the void, the Captain's wrongness increased so much that the ringing inside himself touching the immortal body caused, drowned out the drums rather effectively. It was a discovery he thanked Rassilion for, and used as often as he could.

And even as his Captain writhed under pleasure and intense pain, as he woke with gasps that spoke of horror the likes of which the Master hoped never to see, the man stayed, returned to his bed at the first sign from him.

He was truly a Master. He controlled every mind aboard his ship, baring the Captain's, but it would seem that in it's place, he owned the Time Lord's soul.

The body beside him gasped grotesquely to life and the Master laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

Martha sighed, and after checking the wrist strap, adjusted her watch accordingly.

She was used to the differing time zones now, and actually laughed at the idea of jet lag. Travelling with the Doctor had prepared her for that, at least.

However, a few months travelling around time and space had nothing to teach her that could have helped her see the Earth disappear before her eyes.

In six months she had seen more of the planet than any seasoned traveller, and yet, if this all worked out, she wanted to visit every place again before her death. She wanted to see the towns bursting with life, not the secreted underworld she travelled now.

Every port and industrial town so far, had begun to grow into silos and ammunitions hangers. Run by the Toclafane, of course, for most humans were killed on sight. There were some who worked as scientists, engineers and spies. None of their own free will, be it the Master's control on their mind, or blackmail.

She had maintained a flawless communication system, and before she entered a new country, she knew just who not to trust.

It was not the life she would ever have picked for herself; a far cry from the fantasies of back-packing around Australia she and Tish had thought about as children.

She thought of her family, those up in a psycho's hold, and her brother, hiding and alive, she had to hope at least. She had to believe they would all be alive, otherwise she would never have made it this far.

Her transport; the third change of the night, had not yet arrived, and she supposed she was early. Nothing like the arrival of the Toclafane to speed up travel.

Tilting her head back, her eyes caught the blanket of black above her, stars glittered in the wet of her eyes.

Somewhere up there was an air craft carrier. Somewhere, there was an alien Prime Minister and his wife, a young Welshman who in a few days had made her smile, an immortal Time Lord none of them had foreseen, a hundred mind-washed military men, her family and the Doctor.

Somewhere above the Earth, any number of them were working to change what was being done.

But on the planet, among the devastation and death, Martha cried silent pleas to the stars, the only messenger the Doctor had, with words that had more power than any of Shakespeare's plays. And six more months to deliver them to the second half of everyone left.

A half that diminished just a little every time the Toclafane descended.

She found no relief in the lessening burden. Only pain.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

He woke with a gasp, the vibrations against his throat like broken glass. He wasn't surprised. He remembered his own screams.

It no longer surprised him, the mixture of pleasure and pain he felt at the Master's hands. There was, really, very little that could surprise him still.

A tickle caught his nose and he reached a hand to scratch it. Or he tried to scratch it, but found the movement heavily restricted by shackles and chains.

For the first time since waking, he opened his eyes. His current accommodation was not the room he had died in, but looked more like the belly of the Valiant, the boiler room, near the brig. He stretched his mind, just a little, and felt the presence of the Doctor not far away.

It was harder now to hide the Doctor's mind from the Master's, both of them connected so deeply to the Archangel Network. But the shields were holding and it was too important for him to fail. Personally, he had given too much of himself to this plan for it to fail.

His brows drew together in confusion. It was not the first time he had awoken in the brig, nor the first time to wake up in chains, but it was the first time to wake to them together. It made him suspicious, and not a little concerned.

He was sure, certain in fact, that the Master had not discovered his betrayal, and he couldn't fathom any other actions that could have brought him to this unfortunate position. But then, after so many months of his far from tender mercies, Jack had to admit the Master was quite mad.

It hadn't taken long to reach that revelation and to believe it wholeheartedly, which was saying a lot; because, Rassilion, did it hurt his hearts to know it.

There was a part of him bonded to the other Time Lord so many centuries ago, that refused to accept madness as a reason to stop caring, to stop loving. He wished it were that simple.

But the man he loved, still loved distantly, had died at some point, and left behind a man who could profess love with his mouth, whilst bringing death with his hands.

His Koschei had never touched him with anything but love; the Time Lord was different now in more than physical appearance.

His lips twisted into a bitter smirk. Weren't they all?

The three men left from a civilisation that had been so magnificent to behold. One who had lost himself irretrievably, one who had spent so long alone he could not think of others feelings above his own, and then himself; the Immortal that could not stand to know his own existence, who had given both his hearts, unknowingly, and had them crushed in separate hands.

He shook his head; he had never been so melodramatic as a human. On a whim, he tried a smile, the Captain Jack Harkness Intergalactic Grin. It pulled at muscles unused for too long, but like donning a costume, he found himself leaning into that character. It felt like a lie, but a good one. It felt safe. He wondered how long his team would have taken to see through him.

The grin turned wistful at the thought of his team. Seven and a half months and there had been no word on any of them, and he would have heard of their captures or their deaths.

The Master had long ago surrendered his attempts to make Jack speak, and it seemed the other Torchwood branches had been just as illusive as Three.

He had so much pride for them, he was sure it filtered through the many shields he maintained. Pride could only do good, so he didn't worry.

The chains rattled as he shifted into a seated position, his back against one wall, grin still in place.

No, no worry. There were still so many things that could, and likely would, go wrong, but he had tricks up his sleeve even the Doctor didn't know of, and he knew the Master more intimately than anyone realised.

His chest ached acutely at the thought of the eventual outcome, but he pushed that pain away like all the rest. The continual ache of his existence helped with that; gave him something to focus on.

He could not afford thoughts of doubt. He had to, if it came to it, be prepared to kill the Master himself.

Familiar footsteps approached and he shivered in both excitement and fear. A brief thought slivered across his mind and then was gone.

_Could he do it?_

He hoped he never had to answer that, for everyone's sake.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Ianto stretched out his legs, dismayed yet again at the stains and holes in his once pristine suit. He could barely remember what it had looked like when he bought it.

He supposed they were lucky; allowed to wash and shave daily, and kept well fed. He wondered absently why they were still alive at all, but then he remembered Jack and Martha and guessed they had value as leverage at least.

He cut a glance over to the Doctor, who was sat cross-legged, eyes unfocused on a point on the opposite wall. Now a familiar position to find him in, as he worked his mind into the Master's network.

He didn't really understand, and the Doctor had been at best vague in his explanations, afraid to say or think too much lest the Master hear.

It was a decidedly unsteady tightrope they walked and Ianto wasn't about to push them off for the sake of a little unnecessary understanding.

His gaze slid passed the Doctor and fell on the figure some distance behind. Jack. Or the Captain, as the Master called him. There was another name both the Doctor and the Master would mutter in whispers, but he did not understand the language, and the word was unutterable on his tongue.

He didn't think Jack knew they could see him when the Master had him chained, standing between two pillars. But he was sure that was the point, for though Jack stood with his back to their cage, the Master took great lengths to attract their attention when he decided to play with his…lover.

It went against Ianto to even think that word to describe the relationship between the two aliens, but he knew they were sleeping together, knew that Jack did so willingly. He also knew, from the Doctor's occasional reminisces, that the two had been bonded once, before something had torn them apart. There had been guilt in the brown then, but he had refused to say more on the subject.

Ianto watched the once proud back a moment longer, watched the bent head and the ripple of muscles as Jack trembled in clothes that were looser than before.

He remembered seeing Jack up close, more than eight months earlier, and saw again the pain in those sunken eyes. Not a purely physical pain.

He would not be forgiven, he had realised some months ago. For going off with the Doctor, even as he had seen that some pain and known he was with the one man that could have made Jack let go of the sadness he had carried for so long.

No, he would not be forgiven for breaking a heart that had never been his to break.

It hurt. But it was penance for the hurt he had caused. Betrayal. He was good at that.

However, he was sure Jack would not merely retcon him; perhaps he would go to Torchwood Two. There would be nothing left for him in Cardiff, and Scotland was not so different a place.

Torchwood House there, stood proud in private fields with mountain views. It would be the perfect change from the enclosed surroundings of their prison. He wasn't sure he could have gone back to the Hub even if he were given the choice.

Still, it might be irrelevant, those thoughts, if the plan failed. He would have to live first before he could face the consequences of his actions.

A little of three months left. It seemed like too long.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Owen grunted under the weight of the crate in his hands. With a sigh of relief he passed it off to the next person in the line, and turned back for the next crate, keeping one eye on the sky and ears open for a dreaded sound.

It was dangerous, but necessary; there was food that needed to be taken to the people who didn't have the, admittedly pale, resources of Torchwood.

Cardiff was a good bay for sneaking different resources into Wales, and Torchwood had little else to do for now, but wait and offer aid.

Jack had left instructions for just about every eventuality but this one, hidden in a cabinet that revealed itself two weeks after the Toclafane arrived and the Captain disappeared.

Of course, they knew where Jack was, and a little of what had occurred on the Valiant; Martha Jones had turned up only a few days after the Master's unveiling. Owen had offered to escort her on her world wide journey, but she had refused, and instead, when she departed, they had worked to create a communications network with the few multi-national agencies the Master had also not gained control of.

They kept and hid as many as they could in the Hub, but it wasn't spacious, for all that it boasted hidden room, and many had moved to the other hidden dwellings over the months that passed.

Rhys was still there, his haulage lorry one of those resources Torchwood now laid claim to.

It was difficult to stay beneath the Toclafane and the Master's radar, but Tosh had managed the communications problems and as ever, Gwen handled the messages and gossip people passing by had for them.

There really was nothing more they could do but wait and help when they had the chance.

His own medical skills had been called for more often than his tenure in the Emergency Room had ever allowed, but it still felt good to help.

It would have been hopeless if not for the date and time they all held in their minds, and the word Martha was carrying. The time was readily approaching; only a month to go. Sometimes it still seemed hopeless.

Besides the manual aid to the dwindling survivors, and Tosh's network, they had one other aspect of "the plan" (he imagined the quote marks), they were proud to call their own.

Martha had needed a reason for her travelling, as the Master would surely notice her movements, and be looking for one. So, they had handed her a gun and across the world, harmless liquids had spread out with the instructions they were to be handed to her. Jack always said that arrogance went a long way towards convincing your enemies of anything. And so, knowing via Martha that little could destroy a Time Lord, they had started rumours of the gun and even produced back-dated reports of such a weapon.

Genius really, even if he did say so himself.

A shout went up as the last crate was unloaded from the small boat and reloaded onto the lorry.

As the engine roared to life, the boat's did the same, and the Captain waved at them before sailing away.

A wave from the driver, and the lorry disappeared into the Cardiff night, lights low.

In less than a minute, the people that had formed the "crew" dispersed, leaving only himself, Tosh, Gwen and Rhys.

With a nod and small smiles, they followed each other back through the streets of Cardiff. They split up, and using shadows for cover, disappeared through the many, and previously unknown, hidden entrances to the Hub. Only there when you knew they were.

Owen smirked as he slid inside the Hub; and Jack had always said he couldn't explain the workings of the invisible lift.

The man had definitely been holding out on them.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

She tugged the brush through her hair, barely noticing as it caught on tangles, continuing to pull until it broke through, tearing strands with it.

Her lips were dark red, bright against the snow white complexion she had gained in a year. Her eyes were powdered in silver, and the bruises beneath them hidden with more make-up. Her dress was red like her lips and the blood that often dripped from her.

Harry said she looked good in red.

With a deft twist of her wrist, she gathered her hair up and pinned it into place, forgotten locks falling down her neck and a few framing her face.

There was a red line across her collarbone that the straps of the dress didn't hide. She covered that with powder too.

Her feet were held in delicate stiletto sandals and toes painted the same red as her lips.

She glowed with beauty and as she stood to examine herself critically she held herself with poise and grace.

But her eyes were dead. Empty hollow grey eyes that saw but could no longer _see_. Her mind not truly her own, most of the time she didn't notice.

But some times she would see herself in a mirror, or catch a glimpse of her own face in a reflection of water and the shock would make her heart freeze.

She remembered a time when she had been proud. When she had brains behind her beauty, but it was as if she looked at the memories of another; the recollections just did not fit anymore.

Some days she would feel a jealous rage at the thought of her Harry touching the Freak the way he touched her. Other days, she wept with the guilt of relief that Jack was sparing her that torment.

She visited him occasionally, the act harder now that he spent so much time chained below.

He was the only one who could understand how she felt, on the days she could think for herself. She knew he had loved her Harry, and that he was now facing the same emotions as she; loving and hating the man at the same time.

Jack would listen, his bright eyes sparkling with something she couldn't name, and then he would speak; words of comfort, support, humour meant to cajole. Regardless, she left him with a lighter heart than before. Then Harry would find her, and she would forget all about the Freak and lose herself in her love's hands.

A guard coughed loudly, a reminder that she was on a schedule. Harry had heard word that Martha Jones had returned to England, and he expected to have her apprehended by the evening. He had left for land hours ago, and they were all to be waiting in the Conference Room for his return.

A year had passed, and Harry found it fitting that Martha would return in time for the Anniversary.

She smiled at the image of the broken woman in her mirror. Harry intended to kill every human eventually, herself included. She envied this Martha Jones. Her death would be quick and complete. She would never know the pain of dying one piece at a time, so slowly, when you noticed, it was a true shock to realise.

She wondered if there would be time to visit Jack before Harry returned. She hoped he would be in better health than last time; his blue eyes had looked far too like her own.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

The Master crowed as he returned to the Valiant, Martha Jones safely in the arms of his guards. A year long search finally complete. And better than that; he had the girl _and_ the gun, and just in time for the Anniversary too. Sometimes he had all the luck owed to him. He could not wait to see the Doctor's face when he told him.

He rubbed his hands together in glee, and bounced towards the Conference Room, where he knew they would all be awaiting him.


	8. Chapter 8

The Doctor stood still, the gun pushed against his back enough of an incentive not to make any sudden moves.

Ianto was in a similar position to his left, the Jones family huddled across from him, guns trained on them by two guards.

There was too much at stake for him to make any movements now. Though he found that resolve severely tested as Jack was led into the room.

It had been months since he had laid eyes on Jack from the front and his hearts shifted their beat when blank blue eyes met his own.

He remembered the sight from before, knew that most was the effect of shielding so much in so many places. But there was a difference as though the change was more than temporary, something familiar. He prayed desperately for a glint in the eyes, eyes that he was sure were a paler blue than he remembered. The eyes left him to glance at the next entrant, and the Doctor had a sudden flash of insight.

Lucy Saxon was led by her own party of guards; a lady in red, her eyes the mirrors of Jack's.

The price paid for loving the man you hated and hating the man you loved.

Thankfully, the Master's arrival, and consequently Martha's, drew the Doctor's attention away and he pushed all thoughts from his mind, but those that would allow them to succeed.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

Jack watched dispassionately as the Master entered, followed by Martha. The girl had done as she had been directed, he could see it in the proud set of her shoulder, the smug glint she had in her eyes.

The year was over, three-hundred-and-sixty-five days passed and the time was upon them.

They each had their roles. He knew that when the Master's control broke, he had only one chance to snap reality back. The Tardis screamed at him as she had all year and he soothed her, promises that she would be right again, her time was almost here.

The Master caught his eye and grinned with his own promise. As much as he tried, Jack couldn't prevent the fissions of excitement that flowed through him. There was fear too, and the prospect of pain, but they were easier ignored.

Nothing would come of the look though, not if the Doctor was as smart as he had always seemed. Not if his own abilities had held as well as they appeared.

He had been surprised to hear the Master's talk of a weapon that could defeat a Time Lord. He had been glad he had held his tongue when he found the reports came from his own Team.

Never before had he known without a doubt that he had picked the right team.

His eyes flickered over Ianto's frame, unnoticed as the Welshman's attention was elsewhere. He had felt the man's guilt and resignation to gaining no forgiveness. And he would get no forgiveness; perhaps as a human he may have, if not forgotten, but he was different now, for all that he had the same desires and hopes, and betrayal, more betrayal, he just could not forgive.

If the Welshman returned to Earth after this he would have him transferred to Scotland immediately.

He returned his attention to the Master, when he began to speak, savouring the voice if not the words, as though he might never hear it again.

Even now, his hearts searched in vain for any hint of the man he had known and loved.

"…any last words Miss Martha Jones?"

A smug grin spread across the woman's lips, and the Master, obviously taken aback, questioned it.

"What do you have to smile about?" The Doctor nodded, and that was the signal, so Jack released his shields one by one, no longer able to hear the exchange as the time drew nearer and his concentration was complete.

He could see the changes in the Master's face as he began to notice more emotions around him than he had before, as more thoughts broke through his control.

As the clock of Big Ben chimed the hour, he released the last shields around the Doctor's mind, and removed himself completely from the Master's, knowing the drums had begun again with the Master's flinch.

He closed his eyes, spoke the word on the lips of everyone on the planet below, even though he had not been part of the network, and tried to block out the Master's desperate pleas of denial.

It was harder than it should have been. Especially when the Master appealed to him directly.

"Captain, Aleksei, please, help me."

Thankfully the Doctor regained his attention, and Jack was able to direct the few guards near him to follow to the Tardis.

Three Toclafane guarded the blue box, but he had practice in how they attacked, and though it hurt as it always had, he pushed it away yet again and forced his way into the Control Room.

The screams in his mind were louder now, deafening, the Tardis's pain his own and he knew the cure would be as painful as the illness.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but you'll be right soon, I promise." And then he fired into the Central Console, sparks flying and the screams of death deafening him as time rewound around him.

The complete silence that followed was worse than the noise he had heard all year. But if he strained, he could feel just the barest hint of life in her heart, and he promised again that it would be alright in the end.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

The Conference Room, when he returned, was quiet chaos. Martha had joined her family, Ianto watching on silently, the guards had mostly dropped their weapons, unsure of whom they should be trained on.

In the centre of the room, beside the large table, the Doctor stood, glowing slightly with the power of human faith and the Master was on his knees, begging, it appeared, for the Doctor to stop.

Sensing the Captain's return, and of course having felt the dissolution of the Paradox, the Doctor turned to him and gave a small nod he didn't return.

The Master too turned, following the direction of the Doctor's gaze and his eyes lit again with more madness than Jack had seen in them throughout the year.

"You." It was a curse and Jack threw up barriers around his mind to block the mental echo. "You can't stand with him. You're bound to me. He betrayed you. He ran from you." It was ironic, Jack thought, because he had been betrayed by them both more than once, and yet he had chosen the side of the one he did not love, not as deeply. Not anymore. But then, the Master was truly not the man he had loved either.

"You both betrayed me." The Doctor flinched, the Master, no his _Koschei_ would have flinched, but he was not here anymore.

"_Aleksei_." A last plea, spoke in the tone that had never failed to bring him to his knees, until now, because the eyes didn't match.

"Master." In one fluid motion, the Master rose to his feet and launched himself at Jack.

A shot ripped the air, and the Master fell just short of his goal, mouth open in shock.

Jack looked up into the blank, but tear-filled eyes of Lucy Saxon, and was not surprised to see the gun fall from her limp hand.

He fell to his knees, grabbing at the Master and pulling him into his embrace, pressing hopelessly at the wound that bled too fast.

He may have called for help, may have had an entire conversation over the state of immigration, he could never remember, his focus on the man in his arms. The man that was not drawing on the energy of the Time Lords, even as he faded.

Brown eyes held his own; pain but also relief there, and…love. Jack caught his breath. He knew those eyes.

"Koschei?" A nod, faint but there, and a hand grasped weakly at one of his own. He held on tight. "You need to regenerate. Come on. It's just a bullet."

But he received a negative shake of the head in response.

The Master's mouth opened, the words too quiet for him to hear. Jack bent his head closer.

"Aleksei. You loved me once." Not a question, but he nodded anyway. The body in his arms seemed to relax. "Me too." The familiar answer brought a lump higher in Jack throat.

Brown eyes glazed over, eyelids closing in an extended blink. When they opened again, Jack swore they shone in hazel. "I'm sorry."

Jack heard the cry and wondered where it came from. The brown eyes closed and the chest refused to rise again and the animalistic sound of pain filled the entire room. He never considered that the sound came from his own mouth.

 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~  
*~* *~*

 

The Doctor approached the console of the Tardis with more caution than he ever usually took in his ship.

Booted feet were visible, poking out from underneath one of the consoles, sounds of metal on metal could be heard from somewhere inside. He knew when something fitted right; the Tardis gave a contented hum.

He had been intending to have this discussion since returning to the Tardis after the Master's body had burnt. In the week that had passed since he had found many other ways to fulfil his time.

However, the Tardis was almost back to, well not new, but her old self and he knew that the opportunities were fast disappearing.

Not that he knew what kind of reception he would receive; Jack had proven as adept at avoidance as he was.

"Pass me your screwdriver, Doc." He followed the command before realising what he was doing, and his huff of annoyance gained him a slight chuckle. Nothing like he remembered from the Captain, or the human Jack, but it was something at least.

He waited a few moments, absently stroking the open panel, revelling in the Tardis's happy purrs.

He had tried to fix her himself, but had been treated to electric shocks until he eventually gave up. She was still angry at him for forcing her to the end of the Universe, and getting her turned into a Paradox machine in the first place.

Jack slowly rose up beside him, wiping the oil off his face with a ragged cloth.

He had a lot of making up to do.

"Jack…"

"She's well enough again Doc, if you take her easy for a few trips, spend some time in the Vortex, she should be fine. You'll soon be back to travelling, and I can get back to that team of mine."

Well, that answered some of his questions at least. Jack had no intention of coming with him. It hurt a little, but it was far from a surprise, all things considered.

Still, there were some things his curiosity demanded he know. In case the Captain made this their last meeting. That too would not surprise him.

"How did you escape the Time War?" Of course, the real question was 'where did you disappear to before that', but he believed it was all related.

Jack stiffened, but seemed resigned to answering, because he relaxed as far as he could, and slipped down to sit with his back against the console.

The Doctor copied him. They kept their eyes on the opposite wall.

"The Council knew something big was coming, they had spies everywhere, but they'd been having trouble with the Time Agency. They needed someone to hide within the Agency and discover what they knew, what they wanted." Jack's voice was steady, lost in the past. The Doctor followed him there.

"They asked me, one day, said I was the best at hiding and since I had nothing else in my immediate future…I told them I'd think about it. They wanted an answer straight away. I took the afternoon, said I'd need to discuss it with someone." The Doctor didn't like where this was going, but he still needed to know. "I couldn't make that kind of discussion without asking…him, but when I got back, there the two of you were. I didn't think, I couldn't. I went back to the Council and they sent me away. They dropped me off where they needed me to be based, and that's the last time I saw Gallifrey. I worked in the Agency for years, found the information they needed, fed it back to the Council when I could, but the Time War was getting bigger, and the Agency was getting suspicious of me, of the reactions I had when the Daleks attacked and our people fell.

"The only thing they left me with was the Arch. So when I couldn't hide any longer, I used it, wiped out the Time Lord in me, and made it seem like two years of my life were missing so I wouldn't return to the Agency. And the rest, as they say, is history; Conman, Companion, Immortal."

Silence reigned. Jack had spoken his piece, and the Doctor had no idea how to proceed. Should he apologise? He never apologised. Should he shrug it all off and suggest a cup of tea? Make a joke?

The decision was made for him when Jack rose and pressed several controls. The Tardis's engines sprang to life far more smoothly than he remembered. Perhaps she was good as new."

A hand clapped down on his shoulder. "Come on Doc, Cardiff." And the ringing it brought reminded him.

"Jack, Captain. You've blocked your mind again."

Jack froze on his way around the console.

"Yes."

"I've been alone for so long Jack. I need to feel that I'm not the only one anymore. As a Time Lord, you owe me that."

The blue eyes flashed like the centre of a flame.

"I owe you nothing! You left me, unable to die, on a satellite of corpses. You never gave a thought to what that would mean. That I'm to be the last of everything. And now, now that you know who I am, I'm worthy of your regard and I owe you? I had to feel myself for a year to protect your plan. What I do now with my mind is no business of yours. If you want to feel me, just look for the wrongness." He spat the words and pushed out the blue doors into the newly restored Cardiff bay.

The Doctor watched him a moment, until the doors closed on their own. The Tardis hummed its disapproval as it took to the vortex without any direction from his own hands.

A lot of making up to do. But not, it seemed, for a little time yet.


	9. Chapter 9

He knew Ianto was watching as he ran across the Plass, knew the Doctor likely was too. He didn't care that he was running away.

Ianto would take a few more trips, come to terms with the year-that-never-was and then return ready for his move to Scotland.

Martha wouldn't stay. A year alone and now finally back with her family had the trainee doctor remembering the responsibilities the Doctor had allowed her to forget.

He considered the lift entrance to the Hub, but decided against it. If he was right, he'd be shot before the lift stopped. At least the cog door would give him time to prepare.

A message, sent from the Tardis during the repairs, ensured that his codes would override the lockdown.

It was a strange sensation, coming back to Cardiff, Earth in the twenty-first century and considering it home.

But Gallifrey was gone, and he never really had come from Boeshane and in the hundred or so years he had lived on Earth as a human, it really had become home. The Hub more so, though he intended to buy a more normal home soon. It was time.

There was a bone deep ache when he thought of the past year, of the Master. Hatred and love mingled and it was hard to draw breath sometimes.

But he would keep on breathing, it seemed his destiny and eventually, he knew, he would let go of his anger at the Doctor. Eventually.

The cog door rumbled open and he heard the melody of more than one alarm. His caution against the lift had been well placed after all.

Footsteps heralded the arrival of the team, his team, and Rhys apparently, all holding guns aimed at him.

There was silence, and then he found himself enveloped in the twin embraces of Gwen and Tosh. Even Owen looked like he wanted in on the spontaneous group hug, as he held his gun steady and a scanner in his spare hand.

Rhys just watched with a small smile. He had never really met Jack, but he had heard some stories.

Owen spoke first, confusion in his tone.

"Jack it's you, but, you're different." The girls pulled back a little, but not enough to release their tight holds on his waist. "Bugger. You've got two hearts."

The exclamation, so very much Owen, drew a laugh from him. A real laugh, and he felt something shift a little in him. He'd have to pretend for a little longer, the Jack they knew wouldn't come so easily for a while, but he realised now, it would come back to him some time; he could wait.

"Yeah, about that." He flashed a grin, winked an eye and smirked at the four people before him. "You know how it is, you have a meeting with the Prime Minister, you get a second heart. Party favours have really improved lately."

He would tell them, he had to, but right now he was more than content to soak in their carefree laughter.

They made it all worth it, somehow.


End file.
